


Abyss

by CSIGurlie07



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-30
Updated: 2012-05-29
Packaged: 2017-11-06 06:44:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/415935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CSIGurlie07/pseuds/CSIGurlie07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is my "Depths" tag. You all knew it was coming. It's got more Magnus!whump, and a slightly different approach to the tension that been building this season. Rated T for language.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I am by no means implying that I could have written "Depths" better. This is simply a slightly whumpier, more even approach to the tension that's been building between our two lovely main characters. And plus, I just wanted to see what would have happened if MAGNUS had been the one to get the bigger dose of the magic water. :) This is my interpretation._

_Feel free to let me know what you think. I can't guarantee a regular posting on this, since my priority is my SG-1 fic, but this has been keeping me occupied at work while doing otherwise mind-numbing tasks. So yes, in other words it is a culmination of my daydreaming._ ;)

_Enjoy!_

* * *

Will's eyes blinked open, pulling against encrusted grit and dust that instantly began to sting. He hissed, and tried to lift himself up onto his elbows, only to groan in instant agony. With a cry he fell back, looking down to paw past his bloodstained shirt to find a small, oozing bullet wound that was far more painful than it looked like it should be.

But once he gathered his senses beyond the immediate pain, he recognized that it really wasn't so bad. It was still bleeding, and it hurt like a bitch, but it looked like it wasn't near anything vital. Magnus would be able to patch him up easily enough.

Magnus. _Shit_.

"Magnus!" Will's voice echoed off the rock walls, sounding more and more panicked with each reverberation. "Magnus!"

He pushed himself to his feet, his concern for her dulling his own pain with a rush of adrenaline. His eyes were drawn instantly to the massive pile of rock that reapped them in the cavern. He hoped to god she wasn't under that.

He couldn't remember anything except the ceiling starting to fall, and the pain of being shot. He'd heard Magnus' voice shouting, but nothing else. Where was she?

"MAGNUS!"

" _Will_ …" The voice was dry and weak, sending a shiver of fear down his spine. His eyes darted towards the sound of it, but still couldn't see her. Oh god, oh god, please don't let her be buried…

"Magnus?"

"Will…" This time she trailed off into a round of dry, hacking coughs as she tried to clear her throat of the dust that no doubt coated hers as it did his. Her hand lifted from the rubble, and Will saw it.

Now he could see her, her black clothes so covered with dust she was indistinguishable from the surrounding rock. But he followed the line of her arm, and spied the twist of her tangled legs. But his heart leapt to his throat when he saw the jumble of rocks that was scattered on top of her.

"Oh my god, Magnus—" He stumbled over to her, falling to his knees at her side. "Magnus!"

"Will…"

"Hold on, Magnus, I'm gonna get you out. Just hang in there."

Her eyes blinked through dirt-packed lashes to look at him blearily. One eye seemed bluer than the other. It took him a moment to realize her pupil sizes were uneven. Her hand flopped towards where he knelt, brushing his knee as she reached for him.

"You're injured…" she pointed out breathlessly, her tone just a little confused, as if she couldn't figure out _why_ he was bleeding.

"It's nothing," he told her quickly. For now, it really was nothing. He could handle it. "Just hold on, Magnus…"

A thick line of blood ran along her hairline, its source a deep gash high on her forehead. A rock nearby had a dark splotch of blood on it, and he could only assume that it had fallen on her in the cave in, then rolled away. Thank god it hadn't been big enough to crush her skull outright.

But at the moment, her head wound was the least of his concern. First he had to get the rest of the rocks off her. If he had the time, he would worry if it was even safe to lift them, because something told him that removing the pressure could only bring more problems. But she was starting move, writhing against her impromptu prison as she tried to get up.

"Magnus, stop! Don't move." A wordless groan answered him. "Magnus, please…"

"I can't breathe…" she moaned, her accent thick. His eyes widened, and his hands immediately began to scrabble at the rocks, searching for purchase. One by one he lifted them as quickly as he dared, throwing them off to the side in an effort to free her.

"Magnus…" What did he do now? He didn't know what to do with himself.

"Up," she answered curtly. "I need to get up—"

"What—no, Magnus! If your ribs are broken—"

"Up. Upupupup—" She broke off into a wet cough, and Will found himself responding the only way he knew how. He gently helped her sit up, his hands supporting her shoulders as he put his arm between her and the ground. In the end, he cradled her, ignoring the fiery pain of his own gunshot in the face of her overwhelming vulnerability.

He carefully wiped away the specks of blood that came to her lips, trying not to think about what it meant. Or that he was holding his boss in his arms—a woman so tough she seemed infallible—as she struggled to suck in a breath.

"How's that?" he asked, after her breathing eased a little.

She nodded, her head bobbing as she blinked in relief. "Better." She winced. "A little."

Her eyes opened then, and she turned her head to scan their surroundings. "The others…?"

"Dead, I think. The entire corridor back there must have collapsed. We got lucky."

She huffed a laugh that instantly morphed into a grunt of pain. "Yeah," she breathed. "Lucky."

"Yeah," he concurred. His face pulled into a grimace, out of reflex more than anything else, and though he tried to hide it she saw it.

"Will, your wound!" She tried to heft herself out of his arms, but only got halfway before the pain had her gasping. But still she tried to examine his injury as best she could. "Dear God. Why didn't you say anything?"

"It's just a flesh wound," he joked. But her eyes narrowed in displeasure. He took it as a good sign—she was more coherent now, in any case. "Magnus, your ribs…"

"Broken…" she murmured, her eyes closed. He pulled her against him once more.

"I need to look at them," he told her, his hand already pulling her shirt up. She began to voice a protest, but when she only managed a grunt, he took advantage of the opportunity and glanced at the exposed skin.

His stomach churned sickeningly, and he swallowed against rising bile. Normally pale skin was mottled with purpling bruising, and the slightest touch against her skin made her groan with pain.

"Magnus…"

"We have to get you sewn up, Will. It's a miracle you haven't bled out yet, and—" she trailed off for a moment, but then opened her eyes once more. "Even now… risk of infection…"

"Magnus, you're the one bleeding out here," he pointed out grimly.

He half-expected her to contradict him. The fact that she didn't scared the crap out of him. "Possible pneumo… pneumothorax as well…"

It was getting harder for her breathe again. But he knew that they wouldn't get anywhere by arguing. "I'll find the medkit. We'll go from there."

"...should rest…" she told him.

"Yes, you should," he returned blithely, turning her concern back onto her with a deft hand. He carefully transferred her to a nearby boulder, where she could lean as comfortably as she could while he got up to look. "Just keep breathing okay?"

It took longer than he would have liked to find the kit she wanted, but as he continued to walk around, his hand clamped onto his side, his wound woke up again, making its presence known with a vengeance. He stumbled and teetered on the verge of falling over until he finally found the first aid kit. It was half smashed, but hopefully she could scrounge enough out of it that it could be of some good.

In the end, he had to lay out on the cave floor, as she leaned her shoulder heavily against the boulder as her hands worked to remove the bullet. He struggled to keep the flashlight steady for her, holding its beam on his wound as best he could as he grunted through the pain of forceps digging through his flesh.

But it was over sooner than he expected, and despite her own disorientation he was left with a couple of neat stitches and a relatively clean bandage covering the sight. When she was done she relaxed back against the boulder breathlessly, her eyes closing in pain.

"Magnus?" He rolled to one side before pushing himself, trying not to tear his brand new stitches. For a long moment, she didn't answer. "Magnus!"

"Water…" she got out, her voice raspy. Exhausted.

He nodded. Water. Right. He could do water. He got to his feet, and worked his way through what was left of the SCIU team's supplies. Nothing. A single bottle of water was cracked and empty—useless. But then he spied the now-empty bottle of disinfectant. Its contents had been spilled liberally—and agonizingly—over his wound, and now… Well, it wouldn't be half-bad as a water bottle.

Invigorated in his now half-completed task, he searched every crevice, every dark pocket between the rocks for moisture. Nothing, until he heard the tantalizing sound of trickling water.

"Magnus! Magnus, I think I found something here!" he called out. He didn't expect her to answer, and she didn't, but the sound of his voice was more reassuring than the sound of her strained breaths bouncing off the walls. He moved along the edge of the cave, feeling his way closer to the sound.

Then he saw the barely there trickle. His eyes tracked to the ditch below, and the glimmer of standing water sent his spirits soaring. "Magnus, there's water!" He dipped the bottle into the pool, and then paused only a moment before taking a swig. "Tastes fresh enough," he called, swallowing his mouthful.

He filled the bottle the rest of the way, then twisted the cap on it before straining his way back onto his feet. He tripped his way back to where he'd left her, and nearly fell completely when he saw her eyes closed, her body motionless.

"No," he moaned. "No, no, no..." He fell to his knees beside her, fumbling with the bottle cap, trying to get it off. "Magnus, stay with me!"

He put the bottle to her lips, and for a heart-stopping moment it trailed down her chin before her reflexes kicked in and she sputtered, her eyes blinking open in confusion. She instinctively swiped at his hand, but he refused to budge.

"Magnus, you need to drink. Please… It's water…"

By the grace of god she obeyed, sucking down several gulps before she pushed him away, leaning back in exhaustion. But after she'd blinked a few times, her eyes looked clearer. She turned to look at him.

"Did you find a way out of here?"

He shook his head. "No."

Her eyes tracked along the walls, searching. Suddenly, they focused on something off to her right. "There."

He looked, but didn't see anything. "Where?"

"There, on the wall…"

He got to his feet and moved to investigate it, even though he knew it was pointless. "Magnus, there's nothing here, I already—" He cut himself off as he caught sight of a gap in the rock. It was subtle, a hidden pocket that he'd missed the first time around. But as he drew closer, he could see that it delved deeper into the mountain.

"There's some kind of tunnel here, Magnus," he shouted. "How did you even—"

"It must be some kind of seam. It could lead to another a part of the cave system." She met his gaze squarely, even as she laboriously worked to push herself off the boulder. "It's not exactly my first cave, Will."

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course it wasn't. He was beginning to think that there was no more firsts to be had for her. "You shouldn't be moving," he told her.

"I've got my breath back," she countered. "And standing is the least of my concerns if we're going to go down that tunnel."

She had a point, and she was already on her feet anyways. "How's your pain?"

"Better," she answered softly. "And my head's clearer."

"That's good." A little hard to believe, but who was he to contradict her? He'd suspected for a while that her "unique physiology" gave her a quick healing time, but it hadn't been enough to heal her radiation poisoning—was it enough to heal those busted ribs?

She spotted a backpack on the ground, and nodded towards it. "What's in there?"

"Flashlights, glo-sticks, a little bit of rope that won't really do us any good…" he told her. "And I threw the rest of the bandages in there.

She nodded in approval, before scooping it up and swinging it over her shoulder. She swallowed a groan of pain, but he saw it anyways and immediately reacted. "Nice try," he said, striding towards her. He reached for the pack as soon as he was in reach, but she twisted away from him.

"You're injured."

"So are you," he fired back. "I think I should be the one to carry it—you did a good job patching me up."

It was true. He could barely feel the wound now. It'd probably be sore for days once they got home, but the survival instinct must have kicked in, because he felt good as new. To his surprise, she handed the pack over without another word of protest.

"Let's just get out here," she told him, moving past to take a closer look at the seam she'd spotted. "Pass me a flashlight?"

He did so, not bothering to question her obvious desire to go first. He watched as she clicked it on and shone it down the tunnel, inspecting it as closely as if she might actually be able to see where it went. And when she climbed up to lever herself in, he watched carefully without saying a word. And then he followed, delving head first into the tunnel after her.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Cue the snark. That's all I've got to say! :)_

* * *

For the first dozen meters it was okay. But then the ceiling sloped lower and lower, forcing them closer to the cold, damp rock beneath them. Soon Will was hugging the ground, crabbing his way deeper into the yawning abyss, the light of his flashlight doing little to illuminate the chasm ahead.

And it didn't take long for the knowledge that they were miles underground, buried beneath kilotons of rock that could collapse on them at any moment, to come crashing down on his head like an avalanche.

"Magnus…"

She didn't hear him. Ahead, she wormed her way further from him, delving deeper without hesitation. Never hesitation.

"Magnus!"

"What?"

Will blinked in surprise at the word she bit out, her flashlight whipping around to blind him.

"We should turn back…"

The light disappeared as suddenly as it had come. "No."

"Magnus, we have no idea how far this leads, if it actually leads _anywhere_! It could come down on us at any second!"

"This seam is more structurally sound than the cavern we just left," she countered swiftly. "The same cavern that had no means of escape and was riddled with corpses!"

"This is idiotic!"

"It's the only option, Will!"

Will shook his head, stopping dead in his tracks. "No! No, it isn't! I've gone along with your crazy ideas before, Magnus, but this—!"

"Go on! Doubt me! Go ahead!" she fired back. "You've done nothing else for the past three months!"

"Oh, you wanna go that route? Really? All right! Let's talk about how you chilled out in the Sanctuary while Hollow Earth invaded the surface, huh? How you didn't come out of your little vacation until Henry finally managed to track you down!"

"Oh, that is completely—"

"And if that's not enough, you've also thrown us into the middle of a clandestine war, nearly killed my girlfriend, _and_ torched nearly every bridge we ever had!"

"Fine!" The light turned back into his eyes, and he winced at the sudden brightness. "I'm not exactly pulling you along by the ear here, am I?" Her tone was sharp, biting, and furious. "If you want to go back, then _go back_! I will send a rescue team to your location as soon as I can make contact with Henry." The light disappeared. "Let me know who makes it there first—them, or _SCIU_."

A backhanded reminder that even if he waited, it was a toss-up as to whether he'd actually make it home in the near future. He hesitated a moment longer, then started following her once more. "Fine!" he shouted, his anger reverberating along the tight confines of the tunnel.

"Fine!" she snarked back.

"Fine!"

After that, they didn't speak again until the tunnel widened again and finally spat them out into another corridor of the system. Thankfully, she had the presence of mind to wriggle out all of the way, giving him room to stick his own head out and suck down several much-needed lungfuls of fresh air. Well— _fresher_ , in any case.

When he had recovered, he slid the rest of the way out, and leveled a glare at her. "Well, _that_ was a refreshing change of pace." Blue eyes lanced at him in the semi-darkness. "Charge! Onwards! All ahead full! Lucky for me I wasn't in front of you when I stopped—you might have just crawled over me and kept on going! You don't even stop to think about what happens if you're wrong, do you?"

"There is a time and a place for doubt and uncertainty, Will. Being chest deep in a tunnel a mile underground is neither."

Her anger was tempered by the breathlessness of her voice. It was only then Will noticed her hugging her ribcage, her features tight with pain as she sucked air between parted lips. Wordlessly, he dropped his pack to the ground and pawed through it, yanking out the water bottle and chucking it towards her. It landed heavily in the gravel in front of her knees, and she glared at him for the impersonal delivery. He didn't care.

"Drink. You need it."

She grabbed it up and unscrewed the top, and for a second Will thought she would obey without sniping back at him. A moment later he was proven wrong.

"I don't know…" she muttered darkly. "Maybe you'd like it better if I died of dehydration down here."

Will blinked, anger building in his gut. "What are you talking about?"

She swallowed a gulp of water. "I'd be out of the picture, no longer playing god, and you would be free to run my Network the way _you_ see fit. Because clearly, you think you could do a much better job than I have."

Will considered denying it. But his retaliatory temper would have none of it. "Well, who knows? Maybe if you'd stayed gone after your little _hiatus_ , we wouldn't be in the middle of goddamn war!"

Magnus chugged another swallow before screwing the lid back on with a vicious twist of her wrist. She lobbed it back at him sharply. "Here. You drink. Maybe it'll shut you up long enough for me to have a moment's peace!"

His only response was a bitter swig of the water, still as cool as it had been straight out of the pool. It felt good, and moments later he felt better. The throbbing of his gunshot wound eased, and his spirits lifted. He glanced at his boss, and despite himself, he felt relieved that her color looked better, and her breathing had eased.

Her eyes were closed, and she relaxed back against the boulder she'd claimed for her own. "I'm sorry, Will," she uttered softly. "I don't know what came over me."

"We're both in pain," he pointed out. "And considering anyone else with your injuries would probably be dead by now, I think a little irritability is understandable."

Her jaw ground together, no doubt swallowing a retort. But whatever. He hadn't started it. She did.

"I suggest we both take a moment to regain our strength," she delivered bluntly. "A _quiet_ one."

And so he sat, taking another drink. The cave remained silent until Will began to feel… strange. "Magnus…"

She must have sensed something in his voice, because when she looked up at him, it was in concern, not irritation. "What's wrong?"

"Something—something's happening…"

"Let me look at that wound," she told him, abandoning her rock to check on him. Her hands were steady and sure as she removed the bandage, despite her features tense enough for him to know she was expecting the worst.

But when she peeled back the bandage, she froze—as did he. "What the—?"

It was gone. All that was left of the wound was a bloody splotch on the white bandage. But his side showed nothing but pink, healthy tissue.

Magnus blinked. "I didn't hit my head that hard… did I?"

"Actually, you did. But you're not hallucinating…" His hands trailed over the smooth skin. "And come to think of it, your head wound seems to have healed on its own too."

"What?"

"You had a gash up here," he motioned on his own brow. "But it's gone now. Actually—it might've been healed before we even left the cavern." He couldn't remember seeing it. And he hadn't thought to bandage it. Now he knew why.

He lifted the water bottle, staring at the liquid within. "You don't think—?

"Will, the serpent… It was said to give its followers strength and wisdom. But what if—?"

"What if it wasn't the snake at all? It was the water it was guarding…"

"It makes sense!" Her eyes were sparkling now, her lips curling into a smile. She was a scientist again, fascinated and excited by the wonders of the world. "My father had it completely wrong. Oh, if only he'd known… He would have loved this."

A note of sadness edged into her tone. Will moved to cover her hand with his, but she shook herself out of it, and busied herself with repacking the backpack.

"But as miraculous as the water's effect may seem, they are only temporary. I don't know about you, but I think our first dose wore off in that crawlspace back there."

"Yeah… It left me feeling exhausted."

She paused in her movements. "And somewhat bitter."

Will decided to ignore that little dig. So maybe he had earned it. A little.

"Let's keep moving," she continued. "We need to go as far as we can before _this_ dose begins to wear off as well."


	3. Chapter 3

The trek was long, winding deeper and deeper into the cave system. And every step that Will took followed Magnus', whose only hesitation came when they reached a fork in the tunnel, pausing only a moment before continuing headlong into the depths of the mountain. She didn't once confer with him, never once asked his opinion. But as they continued to trudge along in silence, Will's acceptance of the situation slowly turned bitter.

It left a bad taste on his tongue, and before long he was dragging his feet, certain that the surface lay down the path they _hadn't_ taken.

"Magnus..." She didn't slow. It was as if she hadn't heard him. Her head was continually moving inspecting the roof of the tunnel and glancing across the walls as though searching for some clue that would lead them home. He couldn't pretend to know what she was doing, or what was going through her mind... and he didn't really care. "Magnus!"

" _What,_ Will?" Her huff was guttural, and he saw her wince at the strain it put on her ribs. Come to think of it, his gunshot wound was beginning to throb again. Or was it his head? He couldn't be sure, and instead he ignored both, his focus on getting to the surface. "What is it this time?"

"This isn't the right way."

Her response was a huff of air that instantly set him on edge. His concerns meant nothing to her, and they both knew it. "You're familiar with this cavern then?"

"No, but you need to consider the fact that you might be wrong—"

"I need to do nothing of the sort."

"Yes! Yes, you do!" he fired back. He took a forceful step forward, but she didn't seem cowed in the slightest. "Because you and I both know that if you're wrong, it won't be you who pays the price."

Finally, she paused. Something flashed through her gaze, and when she spoke, her voice was low. "Do you truly believe I risk your life so cavalierly?"

"I don't know," he confessed. Some days he was sure of it. Others, though... he wondered. "But I think you've forgotten that not all of us have as long as you do."

"Will..."

"I only have one set of days, Magnus… I think you need to appreciate what it means if I give them all to you!"

He stalked past her, anger radiating from him in waves, determined to have the last the word. But it wasn't to be. "I think about it every day."

Will stopped in his tracks, then slowly turned to face her. " _What?_ "

"You don't even realize, do you?" she continued. This time she was the one to stalk forward, prowling towards him with her gaze narrowed to a predatory stare. "You don't ever stop to realize that I envy you."

"You? Envy me?" He didn't bother to hide his scoffing skepticism.

Her brows arched gracefully. "Are you really so narrow-minded that you don't see it? That you don't realize how lucky you are to know that your life will someday end?"

"That's ridiculous," he fired back. "No one ever wishes—"

"They do when they've lived as long as I have, Will. When they have seen family and loved ones die, and then gotten the chance to witness it all over again." Her lips curled into a mirthless smile. "Some _vacation_ , as you say."

"Magnus…"

"You wish for longevity, and yet you don't even utilize those precious days you've already had."

"What are you talking about—?"

"You'd be surprised how much you can accomplish in one set of days, Will. Or have you forgotten that I was once as mortal as you?"

"Well—"

"By the time I was your age I was helping my father with his work, attending Oxford... Blazing trails for both my fellow scientists and my fellow women. I was studying with the brightest minds in Europe by the time I was your age now, and where were you when I found you?"

He didn't answer. That didn't stop her.

"Sleepless, aimless, without purpose. I gave your life direction, Will. I gave you fulfillment, closure, and how do you repay me? With unfounded judgements and resentment for making the decisions I have when you have only benefited from them!"

"Magnus—!"

She cut him off with a single, imposing step forward. "Perhaps before you go agonizing over _my_ life, you ought to take a closer look at your own."

"You—"

"Step up, Will! Step up and stop blaming me for your own failures!"

"Oh, now that's rich, coming from a woman who shoves away anyone who doesn't live up to her standards!" Will shone his own flashlight in her eyes, making her wince. "And don't even try to deny it, you know it's true!"

She shoved his hand down, forcing the flashlight beam from her face. "It isn't—"

"Druitt."

Tears sprang to her eyes, and she very nearly took a step back, as if he had physically struck her. "You can't even begin to judge—"

"Griffin, Watson… and now me. Are we all just expendable in your mind? Is that how you cope?" His head was clear, and he knew hers wasn't. He felt, for once, like he was on the higher ground.

A thought, a horrible, hurtful thought came to him, and she saw it come. Her eyes widened, then narrowed, and her jaw set in a defensive line. " _Don't_ …"

"Ashley."

There. He said it. Why did he say that? To drive his point home. She attacked his personal life, so he attacked hers. He attacked the one thing he knew would still make her cry.

Only he didn't expect the right hook that came flying out of the shadows to slam into his jaw with blinding force. He staggered, but didn't go down until a leg hooked around his and her arm pressed against his throat, throwing him to the ground and knocking the wind out of him.

"You _bastard_ ," she breathed, inches from his face. Her knee pressed into his sternum, pressing the breath from his lungs with torturous deliberation.

"Magnus…" He struggled to speak, but a jab from her knee silenced him.

"Shut up."

The growl in her voice scared him—scared him more than the time they were trapped on the sub. At least then, he'd known that she was under the influence of some chaos-loving Abnormal. But this… the water may have brought this to the surface, but it was all her. And in that moment, she looked like she wanted to kill him.

"Before you let more bile spill past your lips, consider this: if my daughter—my beautiful, precious girl—was _expendable_ … What do you think that makes _you_?"

Oh, Jesus. It was getting harder and harder to breathe, and his wound ached. His mind was beginning to spin, and he didn't know if it was from the withdrawal or his slow suffocation. But just as his vision started going dark along the edges, the pressure lifted as Magnus pulled herself away from him.

He coughed and sputtered, and when his vision cleared he found Magnus doing the same, one arm bracing her ribs while the other braced itself against the tunnel wall, keeping her up. Her flashlight lay discarded on the ground, shining uselessly back down the direction they'd come.

Will eyed the backpack that had been left forgotten of to the side. She needed some of that water, but the idea of getting even remotely close to her right now was not an appealing notion. But despite the little voice in his head urging him to let her suffer, he got the water and crawled closer to her, staying on his knees as he offered the bottle to her.

"Get away from me," she muttered darkly, knocking his hand away. Only a quick save on his part kept the water from sloshing out to be wasted on the gravel-strewn ground.

Will huffed a sigh of long-suffering patience. "Magnus, you're in withdrawal..." He was too, but he'd address that later. Much, much later.

"Shove off."

Her voice was thick and bitter, laden with resentment that bordered on hate. Will had never thought she would ever use such a tone with him. Not after everything that they'd gone through together. But now that he thought about it, four years wasn't very long in the big scheme of things. For him it was, as the resident commitment-phobic psychologist, but for her? Barely a blip on the radar.

"I watched her die." A dark whisper, a remorse so heavy it poured from her lips as if it had a life of its own. "I watched her die and then spent 113 years dreading the moment it would happen again, knowing that this time… _this_ time, I could have saved her."

Will swallowed nervously. "No, you couldn't. If you had…"

A mirthless laugh answered him. "If I had, things would have been much different. For the both of us."

Will blinked. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I would still have my daughter, and absolutely nothing in the past three years would have happened the way it has. We wouldn't know Kate, Henry might never have met Erica, and you and Abby wouldn't be together—"

"You don't know that," Will ground out.

"You think I didn't notice the way you looked at Ashley?" Magnus glared at him, accusation heavy in her eyes. "The way you panted after my daughter like a bitch in heat?"

Will's cheeks flushed despite himself. Her accusations were out of line, baseless…

"If she were still alive you wouldn't have given Abby a second glance—you would never have trusted her the way you did."

"You don't know anything—"

"Oh, really!" She rounded on him furiously. "A moment ago you were accusing me of knowing too much, and now suddenly I know nothing at all?"

"Just drink the damn water," he seethed. He thrust the bottle towards her, only for her to surge to her feet.

"I don't want any."

"Magnus!"

"You drink it!" But clearly, her tone told him exactly how much she cared if he actually drank it or not. In the split second it took for her spite to register in his consciousness, he'd made his decision. He moved without thinking, and only when Magnus was back on the ground, wincing at the pain of jarred ribs, did he realize his intent.

He shoved the bottle of magic water against her lips, forcing her head back as he tipped the liquid down her throat. First she sputtered, but when he refused to let up she had no other choice than to drink it. He watched her swallow, the almost desperate gulping belying her risk of drowning if she continued to refuse it. But he didn't let up until her hand found the wound on his side and squeezed.

The pain woke him up, and he blinked as though coming out of a sleep. He immediately pulled back, finally letting her pull in a deep breath of stale air. She coughed harshly, expelling the water that had found its way down her trachea. Will kept himself from helping her, instead watching helplessly with wide eyes.

Blue eyes finally met his in a baleful glare, and he was suddenly at a loss to explain himself. "I—" His voice broke uncertainly. "It was the right thing to do..."

But even as he said it, he knew it wasn't an excuse, or even an explanation. And it seemed to scare him more than it did her. Her lips twisted into a wry line, and her chin tilted in a motion that whispered "I told you so."

"How does it feel, Will?" she asked, her voice heavy. "To do what's necessary, no matter the consequence?"

He didn't have an answer.


	4. Chapter 4

Will remained silent as they wound their way through the tunnels. More than once he was reminded of their journey to Hollow Earth, with the sharp crags of stone arcing over their heads. But that was where the similarities ended. A year ago, she had been fairly sparkling as they explored the underground maze, eagerly anticipating the wonders that awaited them.

This time she crackled with anger, a dark fire burning the edges of her very being. Before, they had shared an easy banter. Now, she barely looked at him.

With his mind clear again, he couldn't bring himself to blame her. Jesus, what had he been thinking? First throwing Ashley in her face—as if she'd had any kind of control over the Cabal's machinations—and then nearly drowning her. She had every right to be pissed.

But he still couldn't deny the sense of satisfaction lurking in his gut at having gotten any reaction out of her at all. Ever since she'd come down off her damn Nepali mountain, she'd been so closed off, so removed from everything—like none of it actually got through to her. It didn't touch her, though it was happening all around her.

And he was glad for the open cavern they finally stumbled into. A pool of clear, clean water glimmered in the sunlight that leaked in through the cracked ceiling, and they were presented with a breath of fresh air, so refreshing after the dank darkness of the tunnels behind them.

Will hung back as Magnus knelt, reaching down to scoop a handful of water into her palm. Her tongue flicked out, tasting it, and after a moment of consideration, her nose crinkled before she splashed the water across her cheeks. Not drinkable then. Great.

His eyes lingered on her bent form, letting his mind wander as he examined her. Among other things, her isolation of the past few months was new since her most recent foray into Hollow Earth. She'd never been all that sociable to; there'd always been that lofty aloofness that came with her age, and she always had enough to work to keep three people busy 24/7. And to Will's knowledge, she hadn't even sat down for a group movie since Ashley's death.

But despite her reservations, she had always been visible, at the very least. She'd made her rounds, checking on all of them, residents and staff alike, keeping abreast of any developments being made within the walls of her Sanctuary.

Since she'd come back, Will now realized, she'd been scarce. Shut away in her office for days at a time, or just plain absent. Will had taken on more of the day-to-day responsibilities then he would have ever expected her to let him have. He practically ran the damn place now.

And was his first opportunity to actually see her. To take a good look at his boss, whom he hadn't truly seen in... Well, in 150 years. And from his vantage point he saw a strength that hadn't been there before. The weight of the world on her shoulders, for sure, but also the definition of muscle she hadn't had six months ago.

Idly, his mind leapt to the idea of Magnus spending her 150 years on the mountain training, mastering the martial arts of the monks in a smoky temple. Like Batman. Hah.

Off to the right, Will registered the faint sound of something a split second before a scaled and feathered head darted out from a hidden crevice of a seemingly solid wall. Magnus reacted instantaneously, rising to her feet even as the serpent struck at her.

"Magnus!" Will dove, tackling her to send them both sailing into the water's depths. The impact was less than he expected, and he realized that she'd already been on her way into the water when he'd launched himself at her. His concern that he'd taken her by surprise was unnecessary—she was already swimming, kicking away ahead of him with smooth strong strokes. Will followed, surfacing when she did halfway to the other side of the pool.

Once they touched the far side they turned to look back, wary of the creature sliding through the water towards them. Will readied himself to dart out of the pool and run like hell, but Magnus looked back, watching in curiosity as the creature slowed, then stopped. It lifted its head high out of the water, as though indignant at what it was facing. But what was so imposing? The two of them? Hardly.

"It's the sunlight." Magnus' voice was soft, and Will could almost hear the wheels spinning in her head. Magic water or not, she was feeling the buzz, the thrill of solving a new puzzle. "It's subterranean; it's sensitive to the light."

"That must be why it freaked out at the extraction point," Will offered. From her nod, he could tell she'd already gotten to that conclusion.

But then she paused, turning to dismiss the threat momentarily, as she looked at him for the first time in over an hour. Almost instantly, her eyes hardened with concern at the sight of fresh blood on his shirt.

"You're bleeding again," she told him unnecessarily.

"Yeah," he responded, unable to keep the bite from his tone. "Apparently that's what happens when the magic water wears off."

Her already stony gaze turned to ice, but she said nothing until she had dug the water bottle from her backpack. She unscrewed the cap and shoved the bottle under his nose. "Here," she delivered forcefully. "Drink."

He bit back the reflexive retort of _make me_ , remembering all too well how he had done that very thing to her. No doubt she would return the favor, given half a chance.

He looked closer and saw the honest concern that hovered beneath the frosty glare, the gentle hold her fingers had on the curt peace offering. Part of him was glad to see this familiar side of her. The healer in her was the strongest aspect of her personality, and the part he missed the most, besides her trust.

But even this brief resurgence of the Magnus charm was tainted by the realization that she pitied him. There wasn't much water left, surely not enough to sustain them both until they managed to make it to the surface. And yet she was offering it to him, not caring for herself. She considered him weaker than her, more vulnerable. Less than the capable protégée that she thought she'd hired. It burned him more than it reassured, because it meant that she was willing to die down here, leaving him to fend for himself in war that _she_ let get out of control.

Before she could stop him, and with no particular plan in mind, he snatched the bottle from her hand, shoved it to his lips, and began to chug.

"Will, no!" It was the only protest she had, her reach for the bottle ineffective against the heavy weight of the water and his too-quick withdrawal. The magic water was still cool, and slid down his throat with the same rush of adrenaline that he was quickly becoming familiar with.

His mind cleared, his growing headache fading away to nothing. In lieu of the pain his thoughts jumped into overdrive—but not in remembering his old college textbooks this time. The cave lit up around him, and he could see every ripple, every crack in the stone walls around him.

Somewhere, in his periphery, he heard Magnus shouting, recognized the curse in her tone even if her words were little more than white noise. But he was already busy, his mind clicking away, rapid-fire epiphanies pistoning in his brain like fireworks. "Oh, Magnus, if you could see what I see..."

The creature didn't like the light. It kept them safe for the moment, but they couldn't stay here forever. They needed a way out, and as soon as the thought occurred to him the light filtering down from the ceiling flared with near-blinding intensity. But then his gaze turned to the surface of the water itself, mapping out the pattern of light that could provide them the way out.

But his mapping was interrupted by the score of faint ripples raking across the current. They weren't on the surface, but below it. Even with his heightened mental acuity, he didn't fit the pieces together in time. But he did see that the ripples were moving towards Magnus, and opened his mouth to warn her, but she had already noticed them herself.

She couldn't have seen them, though. He himself could barely see them, with his mind going at warp speed. And yet there she was, her focus no longer on him, but on the water, searching for something that wasn't there.

Too late he realized she wasn't staring the ripples he'd noticed. Too late he realized her focus was at the water at her waist, peering down into the depths around her feet. Too late her eyes turned to him, suddenly alarmed, her lips parted in a cry not quite panicked, but no longer placid.

"Will—!" A gurgle of water swallowed her cry as she was pulled under, her feet swept away by something he couldn't quite see. Just as she disappeared the serpent erupted from the far side of pool with a hissing roar, cutting away down a tunnel that led back deeper into the earth. The rest of its body followed its massive head, dragging her out of the water so quickly he could barely see Magnus tangled in its sinuous length. Within moments the snake had disappeared, taking Magnus with it.

"MAGNUS!" He was already in the water, swimming towards the opposite shore, but his frantic, desperate attempt to swim was too slow. And whether she heard his shouts, he didn't know, or even if she was conscious enough to respond. She'd hit her head on the rocky ledge as she was pulled out by her legs, and the snake hadn't slowed.

By the time he was taking off down the tunnel after the snake, both it and Magnus were long out of sight.

Later, he would apologize. For everything. For Ashley, for the water, for not seeing that it was only the creature's eyes that were sensitive to the light. There'd been nothing to keep the thing's tail from crossing their wall of light, and stealing her away.

At least the magic water still gave him strength, and as he continued to sprint down the tunnel, tracking the faint trail left behind, he could only hope that it would last long enough for him to get to her. If he crashed before that happened, he had no doubts about what would happen.

If he didn't find her, they would both die down here.


End file.
